


Arena

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: As Gawd is My Witness, Bah Gawd, Crack, Jell-O, Not Canon Compliant, Not Kayfabe Compliant, Other, That Licker is Broken in Half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: They had devised the perfect test for Project ATALANTA.  All they needed was a luchadora mask, and their customized Licker was taking on all comers and stood at the top rung of the upper card.  Until one day, when a mysterious figure from out of the league came to challenge her...
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5
Collections: Exchanges After Dark Birthday Bash 2020





	Arena

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crookedspoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/gifts).



> For the EAD Birthday Bash, a celebration of only the _best_ writers and ideas.

Sometimes, ‘gathering combat data’ was _the best_ , Ken thought.

Officially, the reason why they entered Project ATALANTA into this female wrestling league was a test of it’s learning capacity—professional wrestling had _rules_ man. If the modified licker in a sling bikini and luchadora mask rampaged and started eating audience members, they had failed in making a smarter licker. If it pinned down girls for a 1-2-3, they succeeded. If it waited until the referee’s back was turned and hit it’s opponents with a steal chair, then it was a _revolution in female-wrestling virus monster design_.

ATALANTA, or _La Diabla Roja_ , was a revolution in female wrestling virus monster design.

She was a monster heel. Literally. And metaphorically. She had demolished the roster, undefeated as she worked her way up to the championship.

And side benefit, watching ATALANTA wrestle around and pin down a bunch of woman was quite interesting. For purely scientific reasons. Purely scientific reasons. Absolutely the reason the entire PROJECT ATALANTA staff had reviewed all of the footage gathered. Except Jen.

“Sir…” Jen said, bursting into his office without knocking. “Um… I don’t want to drag the mood down, but… ATALANTA has been champ for six months. I think we’ve learned all we can just having it wrestle women.”

Ken quickly minimized the video of a wardrobe malfunction occurring when ATALANTA had put an… impressive physical specimen who wrestled under the name ‘Barbarian Queen’ in a surfboard hold, and cleared his throat. “We’re gathering _vital_ data. Umbrella’s downfall was rushing things out without copious testing, all sorts of quirks happening in the field.”

“Yes, but… there’s rumors that the B.S.A.A. is poking around, that they’ve managed to figure out that _the licker in a luchadora mask is a licker in a luchadora mask_.”

“Impossible!” Ken said, waving his hand. He caught sight of his watch as he did… it was almost time for the taping. “Now Jen, it’s time to review new footage.”

“Even if you’re sincere about learning from new ATALANTA footage, why do you insist on watching the entire undercard? She’s a main-eventer now.”

“I have my reasons.” Ken assured.

Two hours of stimulating footage later, the entire ATALANTA staff was _devastated_. And stimulated. But mostly devas—well actually maybe… there was some devastation in there. But the stimulation was undeniable—that camera angle when ATALANTA got german-suplexed into the Jello was really good. Their project had been defeated, unmasked, and stripped of her championship belt because apparently there were rules against horrible abominations of science participating in the Maiden’s International League of Fighting.

How were they supposed to know that it was wrong to agree to a jello wrestling match against this strange newcomer?

“Um… we tested this, remember? Exposure to cherry, lime, and/or blue raspberry gelatin desserts caused Project ATALANTA to enter into a fugue state and develop what appeared to be submissiveness to the nearest living entity.” Jennifer _had_ to remind them.

Who was this mysterious newcomer, wearing a Bikini emblazoned with the logo after the defunct police organization S.T.A.R.S., who introduced herself as “Jill…ian V…iolence.”

“That’s Jill Valentine. B.S.A.A. Agent. Former member of S.T.A.R.S.” Jennifer had to but in, moving between the television and the rest of the ATALANTA staff while Jillian Violence was holding an arm across her chest—her top somehow gotten lost to the jello. “Did one of you leave the memo about ATALANTA’s jello weakness in the arena? For the B.S.A.A. to find?”

Ken paid no attention as he quickly got to work. Okay, so… ATALANTA was bust. They could lobby the general manager to reinstate her—it’d be a shocking swerve, but the way it lay at Ms. Violence’s feet as she called out all comers, especially the ones with too many eyeballs and claws… ATALANTA was lost to them.

But there would be revenge.

“How fast do you think we can get a Hunter in a G-string?” Ken asked, and the entire team, save Jen, quickly began debating the proper method to do so.

Project ATALANTA was over, he sadly mused as that prehensile tongue began cleaning cleaning the chery-flavored dessert over it’s conqueror.

But Project ARTEMIS would get that belt back...

**Author's Note:**

> There is no excuse for this.


End file.
